


Love Like Teenagers

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Slow Dancing, car kisses, post 2x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the immediate moments after the scene cut with the slow dance on 2x11, Happy and Toby discuss where they are now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Like Teenagers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just really disarmed by that goddamn slow dance.

Happy has to hear how hard his heart beats in his chest, how unsteady his breathing is. Toby bites the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming.

He's awake. This is happening.

The rhythm of the song floods through him alongside the adrenaline, and he tries to stay in the moment, tries to memorize the way she feels as she rests her head on his chest.

“Not going to say anything snarky?” Happy asks.

Toby takes their hands and rests them on his chest, right over his heart. “I don’t want to ruin the perfect dance,” he says quietly.

Happy is silent, her hand so small in his, and he rests his chin on her forehead.

The song ends, though, and they need to go home.

Toby refuses to let go first.

“We need to head out,” Happy says quietly, still close to Toby.

“Mhm,” Toby replies. He loosens his hand so she can pull away, but she doesn’t move.

"It's getting cold," she says, her head still on his chest.

"It is," Toby replies.

Happy sighs and steps away, still holding his hands. Toby feels cold.

“Give me a minute,” Happy says. “I’ve got to change out of this outfit, if you can call it that.”

Toby hops into the front seat, pretending he's not a little disappointed that Happy's getting rid of that skirt.

“No looking!” Happy says.

“Wasn’t going to,” Toby says. “Although, slow dance with the perfect girl, then the perfect girl taking off her clothes in the back of my car. It’s like the prom I never had.”

He gets nailed in the head by Happy’s pink sweater.

“You’re being weird again,” Happy calls.

She flings herself between the two front seats and lands perfectly in the driver’s seat. Toby can’t stop staring. She's wearing just a tank top and a plaid shirt with her regular jeans, and Toby's pretty sure she's the most beautiful damn thing he's ever looked at.

“What?” Happy asks. “Don’t recognize me in my regular clothes?”

Toby shakes his head. “Just – appreciating you.”

She stares at him. “Excuse me?”

“You had to be Susie Lee all day,” Toby replies. “Now you look like Happy again.”

Her face falls, but she replaces it with a defensive smirk. “Oh, so you were dancing with Susie?” she asks.

“No,” Toby says. “I was dancing with you.”

Happy’s expression softened. “You really do like me, don’t you,” she says quietly.

“More than I can say,” Toby admits. It feels like this could be their moment, that something could happen. He’d stay up all night on this campus as long as he could be with her.

“Was that professor telling the truth?” she asks. It sounds like the words are chased out of her mouth. 

Toby blinks. And then he exhales. And then he speaks. “Yes. I was a huge screw up with Amy. Everything Quincy said," he takes a breath to steady himself, "he was telling the truth.” He breaks eye contact, the shame and self-hatred welling in his chest like it always does when he lets himself believe, for a few minutes, that he deserves something good. “And I just kept doing it. I couldn't stop. And then I had you, and I screwed that up too.” His breathing is shaky, aware that he’s about to lose – again – the best thing that’s ever walked into his life. He looks up, forcing himself to meet Happy’s eyes. “I never want to screw up again.”

"Have you gambled recently?" Happy asks.

Toby realizes, in that moment, he doesn't remember the last time he was at the tracks, at a casino, playing cards. "No," he says, the answer shocking him. "No, I haven't."

Happy watches his face for a moment. “Ask me about high school.”

Toby frowns. “You’re not going to reply to all that?”

Happy sighs, her eyes closed. “Just – ask me about high school.”

“Okay,” Toby says, a little lost. ‘What happened about high school?”

“I got expelled at sixteen,” Happy says. “I punched a kid in the throat for calling me foster trash. And then I punched his friend. And hit them both enough that they fell over.” She looks at him. “You may be screwed up, but you’ve actually graduated high school.” She shrugs. "And it wasn't my first incident."

Toby studies her face for a moment, waiting for the right response to come to him. “You turned out pretty great, considering what you survived,” he replies.

Happy frowns. “I hit them. They didn’t hit me.”

Toby turns in his seat, mirroring the way Happy has her back up against the car door. “I’ve heard enough from you to know that surviving your foster homes, your dad leaving, being alone for so long, is impressive. Happy,” he says, leaning forward, “you’re impressive.”

“I’m fucked up,” she says firmly.

“Well, we’re all pretty fucked up,” Toby agrees. “Some people hide it better than others. And some people, like us, find other fucked up people and get less fucked up because of them.”

Happy searches his face for a moment, and before he processes what she’s doing she climbs over the center console and settles in his lap, kissing him so hard and so suddenly his entire body goes limp.

He reaches up to rest his hands on her arms once he regains feeling. He can’t believe she’s not falling out of the seat, but she’s apparently small enough that the two of them fit on one car seat.

“Did you make me less fucked up?” Happy asks. "Because thanks, if you did."

“No,” Toby says. “You did it. I just…helped.”

She looks at him with this mixture of fascination and confusion. “Can we just –” she sighs. “Can we be something?”

Toby nods, his eyes searching Happy’s face for a joke, laughter, deceit.

He sees nothing but bare honesty. "You really are letting your shields down," Toby says, touching her hair. 

Happy nods. "Figured it was about time."

Toby smiles at her. “We can be anything you want." He rests a hand on her cheek, and his something in his heart flares as she leans into the touch.

“Good,” Happy says, “because I kind of like the idea of you as my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?!” Toby can’t help but exclaim, sounding embarrassingly elated to his own ears.

“Don’t make it weird,” Happy says, but she’s grinning too, and when she kisses him Toby feels like everything in the world is coming together.

And then there’s a knock on the window.

“Kids!” says a campus safety officer. “I don’t care how crappy the dorms are, you can’t be doing that in your car.”

“You think we’re college kids?” Toby asks. “Thank you!”

Happy slaps him arm gently. “Sorry, sir,” Happy says, crawling off Toby’s lap and into the driver’s seat. “We’ll be – we’ll be going now.”

The drive home is light and airy, and Toby gets giddy when Happy takes his hand without a word.

Toby, on the other hand… “You’re holding my hand.”

She glances at him, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m good at being weird,” Toby counters.

Happy’s smile is soft and small, but she squeezes his hand. “Yeah,” she says. “We both are.”

They reach Toby’s apartment and Happy’s in his lap the second after she throws the car in park. She kisses him, her hands on his cheeks.

“Hello,” Toby says, grinning. “You know my neighbors might see us.”

“I don’t give a damn,” Happy says, kissing him again. “We’re just kissing.”

“More like making out,” Toby mumbles.

Happy stares at him. “What are you, a teenager? Who says ‘making out’?”

Toby shrugs. “We apparently can pass for college students. I figured I’d play the part.”

She looks like she’s at a loss for words, so she kisses him again, sighing against his lips when he wraps his arms around her waist.

“You really like me, don’t you,” Toby mutters against Happy’s lips, echoing what she’d said earlier.

“Yeah, dummy,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “of course I do.”

“Good,” Toby says. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Well, you should be sure,” Happy says, kissing him again. “I don’t just make out with anyone in a car.”

“Did you just say make out?” Toby asks.

She shrugs. “What can I say?” she asks. She presses her lips to his. “You’re rubbing off on me.”


End file.
